


That's What He Said

by Sarcophagus



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Double Entendre, Episode Tag, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23432494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcophagus/pseuds/Sarcophagus
Summary: Cavendish has a brief chat with Greg the aerobics instructor. Dakota misunderstands.
Relationships: Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota
Comments: 9
Kudos: 80





	That's What He Said

What to eat? Dakota lingered over the menu. He didn't usually dither like this, but this breakfast place was new to him and he didn't know anything about their food. He'd ordered hot chocolate to get things rolling. Now he was second-guessing himself.

"I'm waffling in a pancake house," he said. Nobody laughed.

Their waitress, Sally, had said good things about the Belgian waffles. Cavendish went with the French toast, another solid choice. On the other hand he was kinda in the mood for eggs Benedict. On a third tentacle eggs always tasted funny in this period. No wonder, when they came out of a bird's --

"Cavendish! Hey, Cavendish!"

Dakota was startled out of his musings. A stocky guy with a terrible haircut had stopped by their table to grin at Cavendish. A guy Dakota never saw before in his life. And Cavendish was smiling back.

"Greg!" Cavendish said. "You remember me?"

Bad hair guy upped the wattage on his grin. "Are you kidding? You and your one-eyed monster? I'll never forget that ride. It's not every day I get swallowed whole."

One-eyed monster? _Swallowed whole?_ Cavendish had gone pink, as well he might. Dakota looked at his partner with new eyes.

"Ready to order?" Sally appeared at his elbow with his glass of hot chocolate.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Dakota said on autopilot. "Blueberry pancakes, heavy on the syrup."

"Coming right up!"

"Listen, I gotta run," Greg was saying, "but we should get together sometime. Grab a brew, you know what I'm saying?"

"Certainly." Cavendish sounded downright chirpy. Since when did he grab brews? Since when did he have friends in the twenty-first century that Dakota didn't know about? Friends with benefits, no less.

Greg swaggered out the door, followed by Dakota's gaze.

"So," he said. "Greg?"

Cavendish didn't seem fazed. "Yes, he's a nice chap. He teaches aerobics. Very flexible." Dakota nearly spit out the chocolate he wasn't even drinking yet. "Open-minded."

"That how you met? Doing aerobics?" Dakota hadn't imagined Cavendish would take aerobics lessons while going rogue. It seemed he didn't know as much about Cavendish as he thought.

Cavendish fiddled with his napkin. "No. It was a tumultuous occasion."

Like a whirlwind romance? Dakota didn't ask. He didn't think he'd like the answer.

All this time he'd thought... well, he'd gotten the impression that Cavendish wasn't very experienced. Like, at all. Saving himself for marriage or something. Which tied into a stupid fantasy he'd had of being Cavendish's first. He didn't count on some _Greg_ beating him to the punch.

That guy. Short, pudgy, wild hair, dopey smile. _What's he got that I don't?_ Game, apparently.

His hot chocolate was lukewarm. That's what he got for dithering.

"And you're gonna have a beer with him," he said, unable to keep from poking at a sore tooth.

"He'll have a beer, no doubt. I'll have a glass of oloroso." Cavendish was becoming impatient. "Why are we talking about Greg's taste in drinks?"

Dakota shrugged while taking another swig of not so hot chocolate. Some of the whipped cream got on his face. Cavendish tilted Dakota's chin and wiped his cheek with his napkin. "If you'd like to meet him you can always come along."

Dakota didn't answer right away. He was caught up in the way Cavendish squinted at him while dabbing at his face. Cavendish didn't fuss over him that often, but when he did his touch was surprisingly gentle for a guy who drove his car like a bucking bronco.

The words sank in. "Okay, back up. You'd take me on your date?"

Cavendish blinked."My _what?_ "

"Your date with Greg."

"I am not going on a date with Greg!"

Dakota's heart skipped a beat. "But you said..."

"I said he's a nice chap. As were Marsilio Ficino, Jim Henson and many other worthy people, none of whom I'm dating. What put that notion into your head?"

The fact that you let him in your pants? Dakota nearly said, but he had a filter. Also, Cavendish didn't lie. If he said he wasn't on dating terms with Greg then he wasn't. Maybe Dakota had a shot after all. It was time.

"Great! So, does that mean the slot's not taken? The going-out slot," he explained. "'Cause I volunteer to fill it."

Not bad. He looked across the table to see how Cavendish was taking it and was met with confusion. "Volunteer for what? What are you talking about?"

He pointed between them. "You and me. Going out."

Dakota didn't remember ever seeing his partner at a loss for words before. It wasn't as funny as he'd thought it would be. Right then Sally brought them the blueberry pancakes and French toast. He'd never been less happy to see pancakes.

Cavendish didn't look thrilled by his French toast either. "You... want to go out with me."

It sounded so flat. Dakota couldn't read him at all. "Yeah, I do," he said, and waited.

Cavendish pushed his plate to one side, as if it was blocking his view, and leaned forward with both hands on the table. "Then why on earth haven't you said so before?"

Oh. Oh wow. Dakota didn't know what to say, but his big dopey silent smile spoke for him. Cavendish was smiling too. When Dakota reached for his hand across the table they met halfway.

In a while Dakota became aware that his sleeve was in the pancakes. He used his knife to scrape some of the syrup back onto the plate.

"I regret everything," Cavendish said drily.

"Whatever," Dakota said. "Mine is the only face you'll wipe cream off of. Right?"

"Well, of course." Cavendish squeezed his hand, the one that wasn't sticky with syrup. Sally passed their table, carrying a tray, and gave Dakota a thumbs-up. He was going to talk up this place every chance he got.

When they left the sun was shining. Which it had been doing all day, but this sunshine was just. Shinier.

Cavendish felt the same. "We ought to celebrate properly," he said. "Any ideas?"

Dakota had ideas. So many of 'em. He nudged Cavendish with his elbow. "I really want to meet your one-eyed monster."

"Hm?" Cavendish set off down the street, clearly in planning mode. "Oh, I left it on Octalia."

Dakota stopped and stared after him. "Wait, what?"


End file.
